Now You Know
by bendita15
Summary: A person who is being battered by a partner will leave an average of seven times before leaving permanently or being murdered. I don't own Naruto or gain profit from writing this. Abuse, violence, suicide, murder. OC.
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: This story chronicles an abusive relationship that ends in murder-suicide. This chapter psychological, emotional and physical abuse, as well the use of a homophobic slur and a heterophobic slur.

_-Battering is just as common in same-sex relationships as in opposite-sex relationships. It transcends race/ethnicity, religion/creed, class, age, sexual orientation…it can happen to anyone.-_

He threatens to out me. He says this all my fault. My boyfriend is angry a lot of the time. It's because he cares. According to him. Anger is a form of caring? No, more like…it's because he cares about something that it can get him angry. I'm not making a lot of sense right now, I know. I haven't had my coffee. That, and I didn't sleep a wink last night. I haven't slept well in so long…ugh. Fear does that. Yeah, I'm scared. Naruto Uzumaki is so scared that he can't sleep. And this is someone who I can't just—you know—I don't know, put one of my frogs on his back to scare him away. I'm scared—see, said it again—to find out what would happen to my frogs.

Originally I wanted toads but got frogs instead. I like them a lot. Skippy and Fofo (shut up, the names are awesome and you know it) are African dwarf frogs. Skippy is grayish brown. Fofo is a sort of greenish brown, and he's much bigger, stronger and slower. Skippy is much more active. They're both really small and like the water, rarely come up for air. Those are common traits in African dwarf frogs. I think. Anyway, I really like my frogs. I've had them a couple of weeks now. Sasuke brought them home one night "just because" and set up the tank and everything. There are snails too, but they're the size of the cobalt pebbles in the tank. The snails have pretty brown shells and seem to get along with the frogs. I don't think I'll name them. So, frogs and snails are my pets. I'm happy with them. But I know Sasuke really brought them home as an apology. A few nights before, I was talking about how cool toads were and how I wanted some one day. He looked up from cleaning his mouth-guards and smirked. "You'd never be able to take care of them. You're such an idiot. They'd never survive beyond three days and you know it." He shook his head, laughing to himself. He pressed the clear mouth-guard things against his teeth, letting the trays fit into place patiently but wincing at their tightness. Sasuke closed his mouth, smirked again and walked off. Later, we got into an argument because I can't keep my mouth shut. He punched me a couple of times. Then, a few days later, the frogs were here.

Sasuke's mouth-guards aren't really mouth-guards. I just call them that. Sasuke reminds me I do that because I'm stupid. That a smart, capable person would just ask what they were called. And I ask. He laughs and says not to act like someone I'm not. I used to yell at him for that but was always rewarded with a bloody nose.

At night, after Sasuke finishes brushing his teeth and all that, he pulls out his little retainer case and the bottle of gel. He puts three dabs of the gel on each mouth-guard, then drags a cotton swab to smear the gel entirely around each mouth-guard. He's memorized the routine by now. Doesn't need the directions anymore. Originally, he misread them and wore the mouth-guards for half an hour the first week. When he reread them and realized his mistake, he blamed me. Back then, he just yelled. But now, he wears the mouth-guards for one minute each night and doesn't eat or drink anything for half an hour afterward. How the hell was I supposed to know? It's a cavity prevention thing. They're fluoride treatment trays, custom-fit to Sasuke's mouth. He takes good care of his mouth. Really good care.

He takes good care of himself, period. Great teeth, great body, perfect diet and all that. Pays the bills on time, used to do volunteer work, works two jobs. He's brilliant. MENSA paid for his college education. "You know, if you were smart, you wouldn't have to do all this work just to get a piece of paper that might help you get a job. All brawn and no brains." I threw something at him. That was the night it turned physical. He grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, screaming with rage. It didn't hurt until he kept twisting. Pushing. And then I was whimpering. He stopped. I was shaking. He growled at me not to do that again. I nodded. He stalked off. We avoided each other for the next couple of days. I slept on the couch for a few nights while he worked the night shift at one job. In the middle of the third night, he came home and shook my shoulder gently until I grumbled my acknowledgement.

"Naruto," he whispered. "C'mon. Let's go to bed." I rolled away from him, curling up in my best impression of a hedgehog. He poked my side insistently. I got up and trudged after him. He kissed me as we slid underneath the covers. "Why'd you have to get me so angry, huh? Shh…it means I care. Just be nicer…no more throwing things, okay?" We had makeup sex. He was slow and gentle. There was foreplay and everything. I forgave him, I guess. There's a name for this. Lots of names, actually. But not for us. This kind of thing happens to hets, not homos. Especially not two men. I don't really know what's going on except that he's hurting me.


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings for a homophobic slur and mentions of emotional and physical abuse.

"Hi," he grumbles. Is today a good day? I can't tell until ten AM or so. Sasuke's not a morning person. "Hi." I grin. I'm a horrible actor, or so I think.

"I'm working late for a few days."

"Okay."

The tension hangs thick in the air. I've been having chest pains and stomach aches a lot. Neck aches, headaches…and I still can't sleep. It's no use going to the doctor. They're actually not that bad now that I think about it. All the aches eventually go away. And I'm still alive. He's working late. Maybe that will help me sleep. I watch him drink his coffee. When he's in an okay or good mood, he closes his eyes, tips the mug and gulps it down. When he's not, his eyes stay open. He glares at me over the rim of the mug and drinks slowly, silently. He sets the mug down halfway through, bites his lower lip, then picks up the mug again. When he's in an okay mood, he's gentle with the mug, silent and clean. He walks quietly, closing the door behind him on his way to work. When he's not, he slams the mug down, roars at me, sometimes pushes me, then stomps out of the house, slamming the door shut so strongly the whole apartment shakes. It's a studio apartment, but still.

Sasuke closes his eyes, tips his mug and gulps the coffee down. Relief washes through me, especially as he leans over and kisses me. I grin as we part—things will get better. "Have a good day. I hope you don't get too bored." He smirks. Damn it. I was hopeful too soon. "Try not to mess up the apartment or burn it down while I'm gone, you dipshit." He closes the door behind him. It can all change in an instant. Things changed slowly in our relationship though. I mean, we had sex within the first week and moved in together after a month, but the other stuff, this stuff, was very gradual. Sasuke's hot, and very charming, charismatic…said he just wanted to be closer, and how much he liked me. Well, that's not exactly how he said those things, nor is it all he said before either thing happened. Not that I'm capable enough to remember it. Them. Whatever. See? I only remember the bad times. I need to learn how to appreciate the good times and accept the fact that they're going to be rare. I just can't make Sasuke happy. I'm too loud, clumsy, can't cook and I'm stupid. Sasuke must really love me to still be with me, and I can't even make him happy.

Don't get too bored, dipshit…his words echo in my mind. I stay here in the apartment all day. I used to have a job, but was fired soon after I moved in with Sasuke. He called all the time, wanting to check up on me. It stressed everyone out—me, my boss, my coworkers…Sasuke blamed me. He said if I could just do more to get him to trust me, that wouldn't have happened. I yelled at him. I had really liked that job! He shoved me. I that was when the neighbors started pounding on the walls. A few hours later, the upstairs neighbor stomped on his floor, also shouting for us to quiet down. Again, Sasuke blamed me. He went ballistic when he found out I was looking for a job again. Gave me a fat lip and some bruises, then a major ego-bashing. So I don't have a job and can't look for one.

I called my friends and family, saying I'd lost my job and whining about the economy. Sasuke heard me say, "I love you. I miss you and I hope to talk to you again soon," and asked a lot of questions afterward. I can't call anyone anymore unless I am completely sure Sasuke's at work. I haven't seen anybody in so long. I miss them so much, but it's the price to pay if I don't want to be screamed at for hours.

I'm resentful. I'm bitter. I'm scared. This is stupid. If I could just make Sasuke happy, we could be happy. I could get a job, see my friends and family. And Sasuke could stop hurting me and I wouldn't be bringing a bad name to the gay community. Nobody I know that's gay (or straight or in-between, for that matter) is treated by their boyfriend (girlfriend or in-between, for that matter) the way Sasuke treats me. I always explain away the bruises. Sasuke, when we're in private, jeers at me and suggests I cover them with makeup. Makeup! Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm effeminate. I wish I could hate Sasuke. I wish I could. But he gives me a place to live and—he's good to me. There are just some bad times.

I wish people knew sometimes, though. How hard would it really be to tell the other guys, "He hits me sometimes" and that he scares me? Ugh. Very difficult. But they're my friends. They're friends with Sasuke, too. Some of them. They'd never suspect he hits me. Sasuke's a shy guy, but he can really open up sometimes. He's that way with them and originally was with me. Warm, caring, kind, sarcastic sense of humor balanced with stupid jokes. He's well-liked, and so am I. Sasuke's a man of few words and seems cold until you get to know him. He's really a good guy. I used to be. We were the "power fag couple," destined to stay together "for longer than three orgasms!" and succeed. What the hell did I do wrong? Damn it, I hate this worrying. I'm going to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

How hard can making a damn phone call be?

"—this is Ino." An internet search led me to this number. I had to go the library to use the computer—Sasuke hacks into my laptop to check my internet history whenever I change my password. He learned how from a friend of his, won't say who. "Hello?"

"Hi." My voice sounds strange to me. "My name is Naruto."

"Hi, Naruto. My name is Ino."

"I've never called—a number like this before."

Her voice is warm and reassuring as she tells me this is a hotline for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and transsexual people who are going through abuse or have survived it. I nod. "Yeah, I uh, was led here by uh, a um…search on the internet for a hotline that would accept gay men." Silence. "Ino?"

"Yes, Naruto?"

"My boyfriend's been hitting me. I want him to stop and I don't know what to do."

And the story just pours out. And this stranger, who I assume identifies and presents as female, listens to me. She comforts me. "It's not your fault. No one needs to be treated this way."

"Shit! My boyfriend is going to come home any minute!" I panic.

"Naruto. Call as often as you need, okay? I have to ask you some questions."

"Okay."

"Is it okay to leave a message?"

"No."

"Is there a time I can call you back that is safe?"

"Yeah, between nine AM and one PM."

"Is that when he works?"

"No, he works from seven to five."

"Okay," Ino responds slowly. "Is it safe for you to call tomorrow?"

"Yes, and I'll save this number under a neutral name, like you said. Thanks, Ino."

"You're welcome."

"Bye."

"Bye."


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings for mentions of violence, homophobic slurs, misogynist slurs and verbal abuse. Threats of and almost-attempted animal murder.

"I talked to Ino yesterday."

"It's me."

"Hi, Ino. This is Naruto."

"Hi, Naruto! How are you?"

"Shitty. Uh, I did some more reading on the internet at the library and—do I qualify for a shelter?"

Silence.

"Well, you gave me a lot of information yesterday. I need some more. Then we can safety-plan."

"You mean you'll help me get into a shelter."

Silence. The sound of—something. "Can you state your name?" Probably a pen on paper. "Naruto Uzumaki. Sasuke's going to be furious."

"Do you have any aliases?"

"No. Will I have to change my name?"

"Let's just focus on this information now," Ino says kindly.

"Okay. Sorry."

"Don't worry. This takes courage. Can you give me your address?"

"Why—no."

"With which gender do you identify?"

"Male. My boyfriend disagrees. He insults me a lot."

"Which city do you live in?"

"Seattle."

"Do you live within city limits?"

"Yes."

"Zip code?"

How long is this going to take? Why does she need all this? Fuck. And what I am doing, talking to a stranger about all this and giving her my zip code? "Is this your primary phone number?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a secondary one?"

"No."

"Is it safe to leave messages on here?"

"I already said no."

"Okay, Naruto. Now, you told me a lot yesterday. It's such a good thing that you reached out. It seems like it was really hard for you."

"This is embarrassing." I pause. "I say that a lot. But it is. I'm ashamed. I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm pissed off! I'm not even me anymore. Sorry. Keep going with your questions."

"Do you have a court order against him?"

"A what?"

Ino spends some time patiently explaining what a court order is, the different types and how to get one. It takes a few times. "Sasuke's right. I'm a moron. I'm sorry that—"

"No, it's fine. This is pretty complicated. When I was going through training, they spent seven hours explaining this to us."

"…oh."

"And you're not stupid, Naruto. You're really smart, actually."

"Okay."

Then she tells me it requires police intervention because it requires a case number. I could cry. Sasuke's right. Only effeminate men cry. Only he doesn't say it so nicely. "No, I don't have a court order against him." I fucking give up.

"Does he against you?"

"No, not that I know of," I sigh dejectedly.

"Do you have children, or does he?"

"Fuck no. We're boyfriends, we live together…no kids, no plans to go to Canada to get married."

"Okay, Naruto. It's normal to feel these emotions. Now…I have to ask you these—and we can go as slow as you need. What's important is the accuracy of the information so we can help you be safe."

I shake my head. "You talked about how Sasuke's been physically violent towards you."

"Yeah, but I threw something at him."

"So?" Her response is unusual. Different from the nurturer, comforter she's been so far. Finally, someone who thinks the way I do. I start laughing and keep laughing as she apologizes. "So uh…does he own any weapons?"

That shuts me up. "No. Me neither."

"Does he abuse drugs or alcohol?"

"No. Me neither."

"Is he suicidal?"

"…not that I know of."

"Are you planning on leaving?"

"Eventually."

"Has he ever stalked you?"

"What kind of question is that?"

Great. Someone's trying to help me and I get defensive. "I don't know, Ino. Sorry."

"Don't worry, Naruto. You're doing great. Has he ever tried to choke or strangle you?"

"No."

"Has he ever threatened to kill you?"

"No." I exhale heavily, not knowing who to blame for the aches spreading through my body. "My phone battery's dying. Hopefully I can call you later."

"Or I can," Ino offers. "Okay." She thanks me. I thank her. Why do I allow this to happen to me?

I got really agitated and irritated when Ino was asking questions. She just needed information and I had to be mean. I'm so stupid.

Ino starts safety planning with me a few days later. That means she's helping me get out. Sasuke would mock me and jeer if he ever knew a woman was helping me. To me, it's nothing. To him, it's everything. I have female friends, therefore—no, I won't do this. I won't repeat what he says. When we have sex, it's the rule that I bottom because I'm "already so much like a woman." Outside influences enforce this. As for the fluffed-up vocabulary, I don't have a job. I stay home and read Sasuke's books and look at my frogs. Frogs have nothing to do with my intelligence. Skippy and Fofo just make me happy, and reading passes the time.

"Who's the girl in the relationship?" Straight people ask, laughter gleaming in their eyes. Sasuke nudges me. Girl. Not even a woman, but girl. I'm a man! They know that. But no, breeders have to try to equate gay relationships to theirs in order to begin to wrap their small, warped minds around the possibility that two people of the same sex could possibly love each other. Fuckers.

"Hey, Sasuke…it's uh, Naruto…I know you're at work and all, but could you pick up some noodles on your way home?" I hang up. It—I don't even—he doesn't let me go grocery shopping anywhere. To him, it's a woman's duty, and since I bottom during sex (out of obligation, not desire), I should do it. Only that requires money. He says I'm too stupid and irresponsible to handle money. So he buys the food, pays the bills and such. And never lets me forget it. Cooking, to him, is also a woman's job. I cook. This leads to ridicule. And when I don't feel like it, he yells. We never just go out to dinner. I'm an okay cook. Neither of us has died from my cooking. Sasuke yells anyway. I clean the apartment sometimes. And on and on. Damned if I do, and damned if I don't.

"Did you get the noodles?"

"Hi, honey, I missed you too," he responds sarcastically. Shit. "No, I didn't but them. I don't fucking do women's duties. That's your job, you faggot." I flinch. He continues. It's not like this rant is new or anything. He'll get louder, then start hitting me. Then I'll get blamed for not having dinner ready. Then it'll be that he takes care of me, I should be grateful, I'd be some poor little five-dollar faggot whore if it weren't for him. It's just different now, knowing I'm going to leave. "And you'd enjoy it." Oh no. I hate this part especially. "You'd enjoy being a fucking hooker. You know most of the individual prostitutes are drug addicts? They have to do drugs to help them get through their miserable lives. But you wouldn't need drugs. You wouldn't be miserable. You'd consider it an honor, and for you it would be. To take it—"

My face is hot. He gets worse and worse every time, and I do nothing to stop it. "And then you'd die of AIDS. And no one would take care of your frogs. I wouldn't. I have no need or use for them. Neither should you. I don't know why you like them. But then again, you don't matter. I should just kill them right now," he threatens, striding into the bedroom. I bolt after him and manage to get between him and the tank. We shout at each other. Both of us are stubborn. I wind up basically negotiating. And then my frogs are safe. And then Sasuke and I have soup for dinner. Things will be fine. It's going to be fine. I don't need to leave. I just need to work harder.


	5. Chapter 5

"_Why don't you leave?"_

"_Where would I go?"_

"Do you drive?"

"No, never appealed to me. I take the bus or walk. Sometimes I take a taxicab."

"Do you know someone who drives?"

"A few people."

"Do they know about this?"

I hang up. That wasn't Ino. It was a cold call I made to a shelter, posing as a woman who smoked a lot. Stupid. And this is Seattle. We have really good public transportation. A lot of my friends are too poor to own a car, or see cars as evil. Why did the dispatcher want to know if I knew anyone who drives? Sasuke threw something at me this morning. I can't stay here. I dial another number on my phone and rub the back of my neck nervously. I have a lot of friends who promise Sasuke and I, or Sasuke or I, can stay with them when needed, for as long as needed.

"Lee?"

"Hi, Naruto. What's wrong?"

"I uh…can I stay with you for awhile?"

"Always, Naruto."

"Sasuke doesn't know."

"I understand."

So he thinks.

"Do you carry a wallet?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Have your ID in it—"

"It is."

"—and your social security card—"

"I thought that was supposed to be in a safe place."

Silence. "Okay. I'm writing this down."

"Quarters for phone calls, and when you run out, you can just dial 0."

Weird to think I'll be using a pay phone.

"A paper with the hotline's number in it, and an emergency contact—"

"But—" Oh, right. No cell phones. This is just—

"And have all your paperwork in one place. Birth certificate, medical records, your passport—"

"How much fucking ID do I need?" I mutter, exasperated.

"A lot," Ino sighs. "I know this is hard. But you're doing a great thing for yourself."

"Okay, I have some of that stuff."

"With you right now?"

"In the apartment, yeah."

"If you have employment records or a resume, too, have those."

I rub the back of my neck. "Just gathering the stuff, making the list…it's stressful."

"I hear you. Do you know all of the exits out of your apartment? Naruto?"

"I'm here. Just fucking terrified And angry. And ashamed. He could kill me."

"It's normal."

Silence.

"To feel this way and be aware of these things, I mean."

Silence.

"Now, have a backpack or some—just hidden away, a bag…put clothes in it, any medication you're taking and as much money as possible."

"Okay."

"And make up a secret code for writing yourself messages in."

"I'm too stupid."

"Naruto, you're not. Got it all down?"

"Yeah."

"Now let's talk about what you need, and might want to do after you leave."

I groan.

"How are you feeling right now?"

"I just want to get this over with."

We talk about plans to seek medical attention and that I will ask the staff to record detailed information and photos of any injuries. Humiliating. I don't say that though. I don't want police involvement and won't get a protection order. I can and should change the apartment locks. "What do you mean, I should tell my neighbors about this?" I shout. "Just that if you want to stay in the apartment, to change the locks, reinforce the doors and windows if you can! And tell your neighbors he no longer lives with you and to call the police if he's at or near the apartment."

"After I leave him"

"Yes."

Change my number. Go through the Address Confidentiality Program—"but that won't work. He lives here. He knows where it is," I complain. "He took everything away from me. That asshole. Even my personality has changed!"

"Especially your personality has changed," Ino corrects me. "Abusers do that so their victims are easier to control." Abuser. My boyfriend is an abuser. My abuser. Damn it.

And now I'm at Lee's, with a black backpack (orange, I decided, while cool, wasn't a good idea) that holds all my safety plan stuff and even the list, lying at my feet. "Where the fuck did I go wrong?" I've told Lee almost everything. Not about the sex, though. Not that he uses sex as a weapon, makes me plead and then calls me a fag and pervert. I can't say what it really is inside my own head, even. Lee sighs. "By not leaving."

"What the fuck."

"You should have broken up with him sooner. Naruto! You're not still together, are you? Why don't you leave?"

"You haven't listened to a damn word I've been saying. Where would I go?"

Lee falls quiet. "Stay as long as you need."

The phone calls start an hour later. Lee's usually a horrible liar, but he looks at me every time he lies to Sasuke. Somehow it helps him. "No. He's—really? Wow, how scary. I shall pray for you in the wintertime of your despair…"

"No, I haven't heard anything from him."

"No, he's not here."

"Sasuke….wait twenty-four hours. He's an adult. No, I don't trust the cops either. But they have more resources that we do."

The phone calls stop and the e-mails start. "He's spamming everyone and we all told him, nobody knows! Doesn't he take no for an answer?" I glare at him. "He hates that word."

"The question was rhetorical. I'm sorry."

"Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"What's rhetorical?"

"Since when have you become quiet and clean?" Lee gasps upon opening the door a few days later. He's on his lunch break. I fidget and squirm, then mumble. "Sasuke calls me messy. I do it to avoid getting yelled at. And anyway, I'm home all day since I don't have a job. It makes sense." Lee stares. "He doesn't let you have a job."

"Pretty much."

"That bastard. Come with me—we're getting applications for retail. You're friendly, Naruto, and will do great with the customers."

Two weeks later, I'm a barista. It feels weird to have a food handler's permit, to work and earn money after so long. It's weird and scary to be away from Sasuke. I have nightmares. Lee is really patient. Work is my escape. I'm always happy to go, and I am good with the customers.

"Sasuke—I—" I stammer over dinner one night. Lee sighs. "Is he still looking for me? He hates cops. I know he didn't call them."

"I don't know. Thanks for dinner."

"Of course."

And sometimes, despite everything, I miss him. Lee doesn't understand that. I start looking at apartments. No offense to Lee. I just want to try being on my own. He's fine with that. Sometimes I think I'm being lulled into a false sense of security.

I groggily open the door to the shop and trudge in. It's six in the morning. Nothing out of the ordinary. I greet my coworkers. They grumble back. Normal. I look out one of the large windows that has a view of the streets. My heart—does something disturbing—as Sasuke rushes away, out of my sight. How did he find me? "Naruto? Why are you so pale?"

"I can't switch jobs, Lee. I have to move. You're not safe if he knows I'm here. I'm not safe at all." Lee shakes his head. "Fine. I hope you stay safe."

"Thanks."

Sasuke starts coming into the shop for coffee, walking in as I clock out. He turns on the charm to the other baristas and always goes to the seats closest to the fireplace.


	6. Chapter 6

WARNINGS FOR VERBAL ABUSE, BEATING AND RAPE.

"I'm so glad you came back," Sasuke purrs, kissing me gently. "Things will be better now." And I want them to be. I want us to stop fighting. I told Lee I was moving out because I didn't want him to be in danger. He wanted me to stay and talked about trying to get me into a shelter. Sasuke started ordering coffee from me and speaking so gently, saying things…it took awhile. Now I know I was just overreacting. Everything will be fine. I shouldn't have done what I did. I was a burden to Lee. I was selfish. Sasuke quietly told me all this. It was hard to hear emotionally, but I know he's right. "I'm trying to protect you, Naruto. I love you." I'm not in any danger. Sasuke won't hurt me. "You'll never have the life skills to support yourself…stay with me. I'm the only one who can take care of you, the only one who wants to. You can't and never will be able to. You need me, Naruto." He kisses me gently now, as we cuddle. Why did I have to go and do all of those things? I feel bad. And scared and confused. Naruto Uzumaki is getting in touch with his emotions. Wow.

I shift slightly and then freeze. Sasuke kisses my neck. I feel his erection against me, feel him pull away to undress. I close my eyes and turn my face away, lie flat on my back as he takes his time in removing my clothes. The black, satin pillowcase is cool against my face. Sasuke runs his hands along my body after he takes each item of clothing off. "Don't be scared. You ran away. I have every right to do this. You're always begging for it, you pervert. Why so shy now, when I'm going to give it to you?" My breathing is shallow. I'll cry afterward. Not now. It's not that I don't want this. I think. I'm just not ready so soon. He's so gentle, so patient. He touches and kisses me in the places I like, and whispers to me. I'm trying so much to will my body to relax, to get an erection, to just relax. This isn't about me. It's about Sasuke. He sounds so animalistic above me. I close my eyes as he thrusts. He's sweating. Even with his warm body on top of me, even with us nestled in between the covers, I feel cold. Don't know why. He didn't use lubricant and it really hurts. It's a raw, aching pain. This is gross to say, but I'm very aware of my insides. I don't know if that even makes sense. It's the only way I can explain it. He didn't use a condom either. I feel numb. There's so much semen…we've never had anal sex without a condom before. Or lubricant. I never want to go through that again.

"Naruto, who's the 1-800 number you called?"

Shit. "It's uh…" A rape hotline. I just want to know if what happened last night was rape. I didn't say yes and—"What. It's what." I forgot to delete it from my outgoing calls. Usually I'm good at that. "Random. I was bored." He slams his hands flat on the wall on either side of my head. I jump, then shove him. Twenty minutes later, he's calling for an ambulance. Blood from his nose and lower lip drip over his face, onto his shirt, onto the floor. Just drips. His eye will be black soon. I broke his nose and punched him in the mouth repeatedly. At least I hope I broke his nose. But after I shoved him, he kicked my shin. That's when I punched him. He kicked and punched me until I was on the ground. Then he kicked me in the ribs and stomped on me once. It hurts. There is a twelve-minute response time plus priority. I probably got a low priority. Male-on-male assault? Sasuke will probably claim self-defense. Fucker. And get away with it! Ugh.

The paramedics or EMTs, whichever—Sasuke would know and tease me—are very professional. Someone once told me that emergency medical professionals won't introduce themselves until the injured or sick person is stable. They don't introduce themselves.

"Naruto, my name is Sakura."

I've introduced myself to a doctor with pink hair and a big grin. She told me her name. Am I stable? Can I go now? "We're going to take care of you."

"Ow!"

And then I'm drifting off to sleep.

I'm awake, in pain and in a hospital bed. I'm sure there's details I forgot about what Sakura said and did, and the paramedics. There's a gray plastic….it looks like a clothespin attached to a cord on my index finger. I hear a quick hiss. "Hi! Don't remove that. It checks the amount of oxygen in your bloodstream. But your oxygen tank isn't needed for now." And she pulls tubes out of my nose. The quick hisses and weird sensation and smell all stop. "I'll remove the gray thing soon."

"Can I go?"

"No. You have to talk to the cops." Lots of people in white coats rush into the room as I hear a loud, fast beeping to my left. I'm on a heart monitor. And cops make me very nervous. Especially now, because I may wind up saying something about me and Sasuke. This is all my fault. I just can't make him happy. Now this happened. How the hell are we going to pay the hospital bills? I have to leave my barista job…I'm in the hospital with three broken ribs and one of my lungs was punctured by one of my ribs, and I'm all bruised. I started coughing up blood in the ambulance. Sakura told me this. I thought I was just throwing up.

Hey, look at that. They gave me morphine. At least I think it's morphine. For the broken ribs, I think. Ooh, clicking the thing feels good…Sakura told me all about my injuries and called the cops for some reason…this feels wonderful…

"Well, I would've given him laughing gas but he's recovering from a punctured lung and broken ribs. I made the decision I thought was best," Sakura explains heatedly to someone who's probably her boss. I drift off to sleep again.

I wake up feeling much better. "His vitals are good. His condition is fairly stable. You can talk to him now," Sakura informs someone cheerfully. Oh shit.


	7. Chapter 7

Two Latinos stand at the foot of the hospital bed I'm lying in. They're dressed in dark blue, crisp, freshly ironed (or so it seems), zero-wrinkle uniforms. Both have guns resting in holsters. The guy has a hip holster and an ankle holster, a gun in each. The woman has a shoulder holster and a knee holster, a gun in each. "Naruto Uzumaki?" Heavy accent. Don't know exactly where from, but it doesn't sound Central American. Sounds South American. "Yeah."

"Dr. Haruno found out your name from your wallet in your pocket. It has your state ID and hospital card in it." Makes sense now. "Oh." The female officer walks up to me.

"I'm sergeant Detective Soledad Reyes and this is my partner, sergeant Detective Angel Gutierrez. We recently transferred from the Domestic Violence Intervention Unit to the Sexual Assault and Child Abuse Unit. We need to find out what happened to you regarding your attack and sexual assault."

Wedding rings. His is a thick, plain—plain as in unadorned—sterling silver band. No, it has—it has 6/15/05 engraved on it. Hers is a thin gold ring with diamonds flanking an emerald. Small and elegant, like her hands. She can't be more than five foot two, maybe a hundred twenty pounds. Her eyes are green. Her hair is long, dark brown, past-the-waist cornrows. There are three beads at the end of each thin braid, all held in place by a small black rubber band. That must have taken five hours. She has a figure most American women would kill for. Hourglass figures are overrated.

Her husband stands next to her, twelve inches taller and a hundred pounds, mostly muscle, heavier. Bronze skin—not the ugly-looking fake tan that bottle-blond white girls get (along with skin cancer!), but the natural kind. His eyes are dark brown. His hair is neatly trimmed according to military standards. I wonder if he served or if it's some police dress code thing. No sideburns. No facial hair. Cute guy. His wife is so pale, but she looks even more so when compared to her husband. How the hell is a straight, married, armed couple going to help me?

Well, they'll probably understand why I don't like cops. "Naruto, who attacked you? Was it a stranger?"

"No." No sense in having them think it was a gay-bashing and hunt down a stranger. If they'd even spend their time doing that. A rape is reported every five minutes and spousal battery occurs every ninety seconds (or I've been told). Why are they wasting their time? "Was your attacker a spouse or partner?"

"Why would you think that?"

"With these kinds of crimes, the spouse or partner is the first person we look at."

"Oh." The morphine sure feels good. I wonder what lying to the police would do. I click the button a few more times. "Do you have any enemies?"

"No."

"Did you know your attacker?" I was already asked that, but in a different way. I'm so relaxed…floating… "Hmm…mmm, yeah…he's my boyfriend." Just stating a fact. "What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Sasuke."

"Last name?"

"Uchiha…you're both really nice…will you be here tomorrow?"

They look at each other. "When you're released from the hospital, would you be willing to make a statement about what happened?"

"Sure…" I drift off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

(A/N: I am still alive and very happy to be writing the story. Sorry this chapter took so long. Life and all that. I do not own Tully's; I just drink their coffee.)

The police station is heavily guarded. They pat me down and peer inside the small cooler I clutch in my hand. They ask about the ice pack and get really intense about the painkillers. When they finally notice my bruises and I even pull my shirt up to show them the ones on my chest, they understand. I show them my cell phone and ID. They understand. I'm admitted. The inside of the building is large and filled with bustling people. A uniformed cop carrying a tray of Tully's coffee grins at me. "Hi."

"Hi, um…can you tell me where uh, um, the Sexual Assault and Child Abuse cops are?"

"Third floor. Stairs are through that door," he points.

"Thank you so much. Have a great day."

"Sure. You too."

What a stupid thing for me to say to a cop. Police stations are places of misery. The third floor is also loud and filled with bustling people. It's well-lit. A pretty woman who I guess is a plainclothes cop holds a steaming Styrofoam cup of coffee and smiles tiredly at me. "You need help finding anybody?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for Soledad Reyes or Angel Gutierrez."

Still smiling, she points behind me. "Second closest to the wall."

"Thanks."

"Sure."

I turn and she touches my shoulder. "You'll have to get used to telling your story over and over again, hon." I nod, not knowing what else to do. Her hair is tucked into a do rag and she wears gold eye-shadow. She smiles sadly and we walk in separate directions.

Soledad's head is down. The cornrows look so cool. She's scribbling away on paperwork, not even looking at her husband as she speaks. He types at an impossible speed, or so it seems, on a computer. "So what if I'm old-fashioned and like paperwork. I still enter everything on the computer. We're supposed to do both so we can have one as a backup. Now—oh, hi, Naruto." I'm surprised she remembers my name. She probably comes into contact with so many people every day. "Just gotta finish this bit and we'll go into an interview room."

"I thought those were for criminals," is my stupid answer. Both police officers grin.

"They can be for people talking about what happened to them too." Soledad raises her eyebrows, then scribbles some more. "Okay, done." She puts the papers in a manila folder, then puts the folder in a drawer. "Let's go." I follow her after nodding a greeting at Angel.

"So, sit down and let's talk." She gestures to a hardback, plain chair with metal legs. It's cold. She sits in the one opposite me and plunks a legal pad and pen on the table. The legal pad only has a few pages left on it. Soledad sees me looking and pulls out a new, untouched one.

"You ready?"

"I guess."

"How do you spell your full, legal name?"

I spell it out loud, slowly. She asks a few other easy questions. Then she looks me in the eye. "How long have you and Sasuke been dating?"

"Uh, about a year."

"Do you live together?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Almost ten months."

I reach for the small cooler I set on the table. "I have to ice my ribs." She nods as I slip the cold, solid package under my shirt and hold it there. I take a deep breath. Ow. I exhale. "This is going to go on for twenty minutes every two hours. The doctors gave me painkillers. I explained it to the cops outside and everything." She nods, then studies me.

"Was he ever violent with you?"

"You came to the hospital!" The ice pack slips. I readjust it as she tosses a tight, beaded-end braid over her shoulder. I wonder how many weeks she's had the cornrows in, and ask. "Four weeks. I'll take them out in two. And yes, this is my real hair. It took five hours."

"I was right!"

She grins. Then, "Naruto, was he ever violent with you?"

"Yes. Did the hospital take photos?"

"Yes. Can you go into further detail?"

I inhale and wince. "This is probably going to take hours," I realize out loud. Soledad looks at me with sympathy. "Besides, the painkillers usually knock me out."

"What?"

"Well, not really knock me out." My brain has jumped from one thing to another. "In the first week, I took one whenever, and regardless of the hour of the day or night, I fall asleep. And sleep for fourteen hours."

"Okay."

"But now I stay awake and the pain goes away."

"Well, that's good."

"Hey, can you tell me when it's two hours from now? I need to ice my ribs every two hours. And breathe deeply five times an hour."

"How about now," she suggests gently.

"It's okay to be nervous and scared and talk about something different."

I harrumph at that, and take another deep breath. Ow.

"Yes, he's been violent with me," I repeat, and elaborate. Twenty minutes later, I remove the ice pack and stick it back in the little cooler. I keep talking. I pause to let her write, and to encourage myself to keep going. Soledad encourages me, too. I talk for an hour and a half about the violence alone. Deep breaths. And the controlling behavior, the verbal and emotional abuse. The not wanting to call the cops. She looks up at me, interrupts her writing flow. She understands. Turns out she grew up in South Seattle. Deep breaths. Just keep talking, block out all the other thoughts.

"Does he own any weapons?"

I close my eyes.

"Get ready to tell your story over and over again. You'll be repeating all the information." Her voice is gentle. I feel exasperated suddenly, already. Sergeant Detective Reyes asks a lot of the same questions Ino did, and questions related to those questions. I ice my ribs. They hurt. Deep breaths. Oh man, they really hurt. "I need to ask about the sexual assault that occurred—"

Painkiller time. My ribs really hurt. My eyes water. I manage to tell her this. She whisks me out of the room, near her desk. Then she's vanished. I look at Angel. Then Soledad is back, pushing a cup of water into my hand. I set it down on her desk, not knowing where else to put it, and I fish the orange bottle of painkillers out of the small red cooler. The childproof cap pops. "They have you on horse pills?" Angel asks me, looking up again from the computer monitor. "No wonder you sleep for fourteen hours after taking them," Soledad mutters as I explain to Angel, "Yeah. Broken ribs." He nods. I gulp down the pill drink all the water, then throw the cup away. Is Styrofoam recyclable?

"How long does it take, in your body, for the painkiller to work? We can keep taking breaks."

"Yeah, thanks." My stomach rumbles. "Um, pretty quick. I don't exactly look at the clock." Soledad smiles at that. "We should probably get back to it," I suggest nervously. "Hey, I heard your stomach rumble," she says in a playful, 'don't try to fool me' voice. "There's a burger joint nearby and all three of us—" she leans over and taps on Angel's desk—"—could use a break and some fresh air." Angel starts putting his paperwork in drawers, not even pausing to question. Hungry and in need of a break. "Tell the captain we went on our break, me and Soledad, and we've got Naruto Uzumaki with us," Angel calls to an officer. He nods.

Soledad's right. Nobody really talks, we just eat. I whine at Soledad for paying for me. Angel shakes his head. I quiet down. We walk around a little. "Naruto, you'll be sleeping at the station tonight."

"What? Why?" I ask Angel.

"It's not safe for you to go home, and unless you have money to stay in a hotel—"

"I don't." I pause. "Thanks." Moments later, I stop. "What about my frogs?" Silence. "We'll figure that out after all this," Angel says eventually. That's all we can do right now.

Angel twists his wedding ring around a lot when he's nervous or agitated. I'm probably focusing on someone else's little quirk because of what's going on. I'm in a police station, in a small room with dark gray walls, dark chairs, a dark table and a small window, and I'm ratting out my boyfriend. I say exactly that when, at some point, Soledad asks if I am okay. "Pills and ice?" She suggests, pointing to the little cooler. Short-hand for, 'Do you need a painkiller and to ice your ribs?' And I do. So I do.

The sky outside is dark. I came here early this morning. The questioning has gone on for hours. I had to read and reread and sign my statement. I'm so tired. But we're done for now and this is more than enough for a lifetime restraining order (which is only ten years in the state of Washington…or maybe just King County…I can't remember…but it can occasionally be extended to forever) and an arrest warrant for Sasuke, Soledad told me.

I don't know what to do or how to feel.


	9. Chapter 9

(Two sentences in paragraph one are in past tense. The change is abrupt, weird and intentional. Just thought I'd point that out so nobody would be thrown off. The chapter later flips between past and present tense from Naruto's point of view, but done so in a way that is not weird. Warning: brief mention of serial child kidnappers)

My frogs are fine. I called my parents to check on them. They did while Sasuke was home; (haha I know fancy punctuation from Sasuke's books. Believe it!) he opened the door for them, all charm and worry and wonder about where I was. They don't even know, and said. I blocked the phone number of the phone I was using before I called them. Last night, Angel led me into a lower floor of the station, one with bunk beds. He handed me sweat pants and a baggy blue t-shirt with 'SPD POLICE' across it in light gray letters.

"Sorry about the PJs."

I shrug. "Doesn't matter. You guys are letting me stay here, and that means everything." He turns away as I change clothes. I climb under the thin, dark gray covers of the bunk bed. "Hey—don't feel like you have to stay." He turns to face me as I speak. "I mean—you—are you married to Soledad?"

"Yeah." He grins proudly, then turns serious again. "We change shifts. Every detective does. Tonight counts as overtime. No, it's cool," he interrupts as I begin to apologize. "I want to help."

"Oh."

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep. Sleeping in a place like this is tough, especially when you're scared." Silence. I nod. "Have you ever slept here?"

"Oh, yeah. There've been child kidnappers, serial ones, who we've—worked on, and they'd strike at night and be reported in the morning…the squad would alternate sleep shifts, trying to take care of each other while waiting for the next call in the middle of the night."

"That's horrible."

"It's my job," he almost shrugs. He sighs. I'm too jumpy to be sleepy.

"Each case is a little more horrifying than the last…we get examined by a cop shrink every six months…in the DVIU, they'd ask—"

"The what?"

"The Domestic Violence Intervention Unit."

"Oh."

"They'd ask if our marriages or relationships were affected, and whether we drank or did drugs." He exhales. "I thought that was so personal, so embarrassing, but I talked. Then I came here and it's, is my sex life affected. Do I have kids. Do I drink." He pauses. "I cope." We're each going through our own hell. He accepts his, says saving and helping victims is worth it, and he chose the job. I want out of mine.

How did this happen? Where did I, the great Naruto Uzumaki, go wrong? Why is my story so different from everyone else's? I stretch out on the cold, hard, thin bed only meant for temporary use. How long will I be here?

"How did you meet her?" I ask suddenly, looking at the metal supporting the top bunk. "We met, actually, because I wasn't paying attention," Angel chuckles. Sasuke and I met because I was. I kept staring and scolding myself for it. "We literally slammed into each other. I knocked her off her feet. She jokes about it. We were walking on the sidewalks. I was carefully avoiding broken glass and looking at graffiti. She walked like it was no big deal, and to her, it wasn't. She was born in Rainier Beach. I was lost in a very dangerous neighborhood in South Seattle—the area…Rainier Beach…"

I nod. There are areas in Seattle that are named after neighborhoods and it gets confusing. He was walking in the place where Soledad grew up.

"I was trying to find a bus shelter so I could get back to West Seattle. I didn't live in the nicest neighborhood either, but—" He stops. I understand. "I grew up near Beacon Hill," I offer. We understand each other. I look over. He closes his eyes, then opens them again. "I knelt down and held out my hand to help her up. I remember being shocked at how cold her hands were. She was fine, she insisted, and wanted to know if I was lost. She explained that she wasn't good at giving directions and walked me to a bus shelter. We talked. Twenty minutes later, as the bus pulled up, I gave her my number." He shrugs.

Sasuke saw me staring—it seems like so long ago, but it was a little less than a year—and walked over, just immediately started flirting. No. Wrong word. We ditched the party we were at to go eat at a twenty-four hour diner and, after exchanging numbers, agreed to go out Saturday night, which was two days away.

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"Was your relationship affected when you were in the—before you transferred to the Sex Crimes and Child Abuse Unit?" I can't even say the phrase 'domestic violence.'

"It developed along with our careers. Both of us were working different shifts as rookies, and we never told each other we'd requested transfers to the DVIU…it was just 'I'm a police officer.' 'Oh, me too.' And then we were working alongside each other eight hours a day in stressful circumstances, to say the least. We understood each other."

Sasuke and I sure as hell don't. Each question I ask Angel makes me feel worse. Yeah, I've only asked two. Still. "Is that what you told the police psychiatrist?" The police officer who brings the phrase 'gentle giant' to mind laughs. "Something like that. It's true." His barely-there accent sounds Central American, I suddenly figure out. My mind jumps to other things when I am jumpy. "Why did they want to know if you had kids, when you were questioned here?"

"Think about it," Angel says gently. "You see the sick things some people do to kids and then you have to go home to your own kids…it's a small part of why I don't want any." Four questions. Angel's a nice guy. I'm only sort of sleepy.

"Does counting sheep help you sleep?"

"No. I pester my wife until she hits me with a pillow and grumbles at me," he laughs. I burst out laughing and grimace as, when the laughter has faded, pain shoots through me. I've been letting it fade away. I'll have a painkiller later. "Before—I mean—really early on in the relationship, I used to get up when Sasuke was in a really deep sleep and place ice cubes on his forehead."

"Yeah…you're wide awake, so they should be too," he guffaws. I nod eagerly. He gets it. "And then you follow it with, 'Well gee, honey, I got envious of you sleeping there. Maybe if we cuddle, we'll both fall back asleep' and then snuggle up close while—" he laughs and I finish the sentence, "—they're rolling their eyes and making plans to somehow get even the next morning." I grin. There were happy times. Angel still has them. We talk some more. At some point, I ice my ribs and take a painkiller. Laughing hurts, but it's worth it. I feel safer and happier than I have in a long time.

True to his word, Angel stays until I fall asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Life seems to be shoving this story aside (I love writing this story and will finish it, I promise!). That, and I went back and forth on whether to edit out some stuff I had written or post it in its entirety. I wrote down what Naruto would have filled out in his restraining order, and the wording for the fields and the conditions of Sasuke's being restrained, as to how it would be done in King County in the state of Washington in the USA. I went off of one I filled out in 2006, and things might have changed in restraining orders since then. Eventually, I decided not to include it in this chapter because I fear copyright issues no matter how many times I say I don't own anything or all that, and because the message can be the same without including the full, seven-page text of the order. I did, however, include his thoughts and observations as he filled out the order. If any of you feel that it would really strengthen the story to see the order or simply have a curiosity, I will figure out a way to include it; it's just a lot of text. As is this author's note!

Also, Naruto flips between second-person, future tense and first-person present tense, and first-person past tense and second-person past tense. It's a lot of changing and jarring, it's intentional and it's perfect for this chapter.

The restraining order is a thick document. At the very top of the first page, 'Law Enforcement Information' is written in all capital letters and underlined. Two numbers, a hyphen and five numbers are stamped across the top. The case number is listed: two numbers, a letter, a dot and four numbers. The first page is a lot of information I already told Ino and Soledad, only now a court document wants to know. The second page—he doesn't have mental health problems and he doesn't use drugs or alcohol. But he's violent.

More numbers. Again, two numbers, a hyphen and five numbers, the same on the first page. I squirm in my chair. There's nothing relevant to the situation on the third page. Since when do I talk fancy (think fancy?) when I'm nervous? Sasuke's books did something good for me. I'm so scared.

When you need a restraining order, and the police will determine this after you give your statement, they will give you a small card like a business card, but it has your case number on it. Your case number is two numbers and a letter, then a dot in the middle—not a period, a dot that's higher than that, and then four more numbers. The police will tell you to go to the courthouse, and they will write down the address. You will call a friend who has a car. He will take you there. You will wonder again if the tattoo on his forehead is a gang tattoo, and breathe a sigh of relief when nobody in the courthouse notices the two of you. The court entrance…lobby…thing will be crowded. A police officer is marrying his bride—he's in his uniform, she's in a white dress—and someone will be taking big, flashy photos.

You and your friend will be directed by someone you assume to be a security guard near a metal detector. The security guard will ask you to please place all of your belongings in a pink plastic tub on a table near the detector. You both do, and walk through. Your friend finds a chair while you nervously walk up to some kind of court clerk. There is a laminated sign next to you, stapled to the mini-wall that is on the table the court clerk is at (that hardly makes sense).

Restraining Orders $100

Anti-harassment Orders $63

You turn away, not reading the rest of the sign. Were the clothes you wore today even appropriate? Today is just the filing.

The court clerk is a pretty woman. She's Korean-American. She smiles at me. This is a normal day for most people. "I need to file a restraining order against my boyfriend." My voice sounds unfamiliar to me. She pulls out a stapled packet of papers and binds them to a clipboard. She tells me what to write and where. I thank her and sit with Gaara. He hands me a check when I finish the forms, and I hand it all to the clerk. I can't even pay to protect myself!

I stay with Gaara. A week later, we go back to the courthouse, both of us dressed nicely. A homophobic judge recuses himself from my case and another one gives me more paper, more instructions, another court date and another court. Superior Court because of some drama. The court date is a week from now. I give two copies—emergency copies, and I was given a lot—to Gaara. He took two from the stack and gave them to my parents. I carry one. I give one to my work. There were ten. They were all handed out. Everyone keeps one with them and upon seeing Sasuke, calls the police…after showing him the restraining order. They will when it happens, I mean.

The respondent (Sasuke) probably has fled the state by now. The respondent has committed crimes against me, my happiness, my liberty, and my life. Plus my faith in humanity.

This is so much to read, and I am reading it all word for word. The judge signed something on the fourth page and the date is on it. The text is swimming in front of me. I need to read all of this, though. Wow, I will have this memorized. This is repetitive. How many times do they need to print the case name and number? …Once a page, now that I think about it.

The seventh page has some court definitions. And then my statement, which goes on for maybe half of what all the court paperwork does. And my signature, certification under penalty of perjury that I'm telling the truth.

I want this to be over.


	11. Chapter 11

It's so hard to explain to my parents what's going on. They're sad, shocked, and angry all at once. I don't stay with Gaara for too long. A week, maybe. I'm going to stay with my parents until I figure out what to do. Men, especially gay men of color, are rarely accepted into shelters for a bunch of reasons. I don't want to put my parents in danger, but it's all I can do right now—stay with them. They love me. Court is tomorrow.

Superior Court They try felonies and special cases in Superior Court. I don't want to think about it. I've been in a weird, sick denial, then scared of everything. Every time I leave my parents' house or my work, I look over my shoulder every five seconds. None of my friends even know I'm staying with them. I know Sasuke is looking for me. My frogs are here and safe. They have fresh food. The tank is on the kitchen counter. Skippy and Fofo seem a lot happier. It's so nice to be around my parents again, around my family. Sasuke's not here to ask questions for hours afterward or make accusations or scream at me. I'm so glad to be safe again. I'm so glad not to do housework—Sasuke just never let it go. I'd have been happy if he said thank you even once. But my family is here with me now. Court is tomorrow. Gaara is going with me. I can't let my parents—I can't put them through this. Even though they're in it now and so is everybody else.

I feel numb and alternately nervous. Normal people aren't supposed to go through this. Sasuke and I were really happy together once. It was a long time ago. He was so gentle and kind during sex. We used to be really in tune with each other. It was like he could read my mind sometimes. We loved each other, but I couldn't make him happy. Now it's come to this. But he hurt me.

Gaara and I dress pretty classy today—we have to for court. My bruises faded and my ribs and lungs are all okay now. Good thing—I'm so nervous that I'm kind of having trouble breathing. We take a bus to the transit center early in the morning. I'm so nervous. I can't shut up. What if Sasuke's there in court. What if he's not. What if he brings a gun. Gaara looks over at me. He explains about a divorce case that was tried awhile ago in Seattle. The husband brought a gun and shot everyone. The laws are stricter now, and the ways of checking for guns are, too.

We take another bus and get to court an hour early. Neither of us are hungry, but we eat a small breakfast at a coffee shop anyway. Gaara pays. It's like I am sixteen again. There's the county jail—it's right near the courthouse. Sasuke would be in there if the cops could find him. They can't. He's very good at hiding. The emergency order expires today the moment we walk into the courtroom. Gaara looks over at me. He's paler than usual. I tell him I'm ready to throw up. I'm so nervous as we walk into the giant courtroom. We sit down after finding seats on the crowded benches. I don't see Sasuke. Hours later, we're called. I am, rather. Gaara is here for emotional support, but he wouldn't call it that. I ordinarily wouldn't either.

The judge asks me questions. Sasuke is not here. He's hiding.

The order is granted.

I hand out copies. When they find Sasuke, he'll be arrested. They have an outstanding warrant, whatever that means. When he's released, he'll have to wear an ankle monitor and stay a mile away from me at all times. One of my friends sneers that restraining orders are meant to be broken. Fuck that. This one lasts for ten years. The law is on my side. Sasuke won't hurt me.


	12. Chapter 12

Despite the order, I wake up scared sometimes. It's usually after I've dreamt of him. Nightmares. On those days, I look over my shoulder every five seconds and walk sometimes slow, sometimes so fast I stumble. Will I stop doing that? Should I? I'm going through flashbacks. Apparently those won't stop. The great Naruto Uzumaki has been reduced to this.

The worst part is the sex dreams. The sex was great until the abuse started. Then it wasn't sex anymore, not really. But some nights, increasingly now, I remember how he touched me and where. I remember how we kissed, how he kissed me and how I kissed him. He kissed me in different ways in different places. On my chest and abdomen, the kisses were almost always slow and gentle. He did things during blowjobs that I hadn't imagined possible before. Fuck.

I'm an adult with basic human needs. I have needs. I miss how we would hold each other sometimes. Or cuddle. Stuff like that. It's a human drive. I'm not exactly fulfilling it elsewhere. But he hurt me. He doesn't love me or care about me.

And somehow, in one of the stupidest decisions of my life, if not the stupidest, I am barely awake in the darkness. Two in the morning. I'm answering my parents' house phone. "Hey, sweetie." His voice is the way it is when he's been brooding. "I miss you."

"Sasuke," I finally manage. My voice is the way it is when I'm unbearably horny. My body matches my voice. Traitor. "Naruto." I swear I can hear the bastard unzip and take off his jeans. His voice matches mine. Phone sex? He can't contact me. Should I call the cops at two in the morning? 'I have an order against him. He called me and we had phone sex.' No. "I think about you."

"I'm gonna call the cops."  
"Can we have sex first? I still masturbate to what we had. You're always welcome in my bed, even if you make really stupid decisions." A pause. "It sounds like you're alone." I need to hang up. "Yeah, and Kiba will be over with his Rottweiler in two seconds when I hang up."  
"Oh, Naruto. I haven't been with anybody either. Waiting for you to come back…" Sasuke sighs and breathes heavily. I shiver. He's masturbating. And telling me things.

Angel gave me his cell phone number. I can call him and just say what's going on. Hanging up on someone is rude. Hanging up on someone who tried to beat the shit out of you and nearly succeeded isn't. I put the phone back in its cradle and return to my darkened room. The phone rings again. I find my cell phone as Sasuke hangs up on my parents' answering machine. My parents are waking up as the phone rings again. I rush into their room, cell phone tightly clutched in my hand and against my ear. A grumble and deep breath of someone who's been woken up. A quick exchange of Spanish.

"Hello?"  
"Hi, Detective Gutierrez," I say too loudly. My parents know now not to go downstairs and answer the phone. Sasuke keeps calling and hanging up at the answering machine.

"Naruto, you did the right thing. Tell me exactly what happened."


	13. Chapter 13

"Restraining orders are meant to be broken. And when they are, the person only enters the system. Sometimes the person is arrested. It's bullshit." A friend of mine told me that. His words are in my head now. Sasuke wouldn't stop calling. They couldn't find him. I only went to talk to him. I told the cops the truth and they let him go. Sasuke was in Kitsap County, hours from here. We arranged to meet. He took me to a friend of his' cabin. I wanted to tell him to fuck off and to move on…to leave me alone. Didn't get that far. He punched me for leaving him. I called the cops.

Sasuke's never going to leave me alone now. We're both back in King County, in Seattle. I fucked up. I lied finally and said it was all just a misunderstanding, just so the cops would leave us alone. They called Angel anyway.

I begged him to get Sasuke out of jail. I couldn't face going to court. I said I'd lie and I think he knew I meant it. Angel didn't get him out. Sasuke's parents and their money did.

That was a week ago. I really will leave if he hits me again.


	14. Chapter 14

(A/N: This chapter switches between past and present tense. Warnings for crazy-making, mentions of racial slurs and emotional abuse.)

On the second night of his calling, I answered and screamed at him to stop it. The phone rang again. He'd stop if I just talked to him. I just went there to make it clear I was moving on. He punched me, yelled, swore. He's never said racist stuff before. We're both Japanese-American, fourth generation each, so it would seem kind of stupid. Not the stuff he was saying. The cops came. He shut up. I lied. He was arrested anyway. Sasuke stayed in the county jail for a whole six hours. I wasn't going to tell those Kitsap County cops the truth. I accidentally blurted out that Angel knew and I wasn't gonna report a damn thing. So they called him. I can't stop thinking about all of this. It's my fault.

It's not like Sasuke kidnapped me or anything. I went willingly. The order is void. His family has really powerful lawyers. Sasuke says they can even get us the rights that straight people have if we get married. Yeah, like I want to marry him! People would think it'd be for his money. Bullshit. I will make my own way through life! I still have my job. Sasuke calls when I'm on my way, and wants me to call when I get there, and when I leave. He doesn't drink coffee anymore. He makes green tea at home every morning.

Answering his calls isn't that bad. He hasn't hit me since before we got back together. A whole month. He hasn't yelled, swore or done anything he used to. The sex is great. He wants it a lot more than I do, but a lot of sex is good in a relationship. I think. We moved into another apartment. It's still in Beacon Hill. My parents were devastated. They don't understand why I got back with Sasuke. They insisted on keeping Skippy and Fofo. I go over every day to visit and feed them, and to see my parents. I love my parents. Sasuke loathes them. He isolated me from my family and friends once. I'll kick his ass if he tries to again. And then I will leave.

Sasuke and I are getting more serious. We started a joint checking account after we got back together. Ino, when I was calling her, said that could turn really easily into financial manipulation. I haven't had to call her in six months. Sasuke just wants us to be financially stable. He's just looking out for our future. Having my own account would be really expensive anyway. Sasuke says it would be greedy too, and the only reason he has two separate accounts from me is so we'll have something to fall back on if something happens. He's so smart.

We go out on date nights, basically, two nights a week. We're holding hands again. He puts his arm around me and we cuddle when we're watching movies or whatever. He tells me what he wants for dinner every night and tries not to yell at me when I do it wrong. Things are so much better. He really has changed, just like he said he would. I'm not afraid anymore. I trust my boyfriend. He loves me.

Or I thought he did. A year ago, I was trying to get into a shelter. Ino was helping me all she could. Sasuke went to jail four months later, three months after breaking some of my ribs and puncturing a lung of mine in the process. He was in jail for six hours. We got back together the next day. Now, eight months later, I'm screaming at him for cheating on me. I'm leaving! He tries to placate me. Then he blames me. He laughs as I snarl at him I'll be moved out within twenty-four hours. "You're paranoid, Naruto. I love you, you idiot. I would never cheat."

I bounce back and forth between Gaara's, Kiba's, Lee's and my parents' places for three months. I've scraped together enough money to rent an apartment. I don't tell Sasuke. He calls everyone. They lie. Sasuke and I opened a joint checking account…

My cell phone rings. "You're an impulsive bastard. You left me and then took half the money in the checking account."  
"Our checking account!" I holler.  
"You're paranoid. I went to jail for you! Why would I cheat?"  
It's really cool that I figured out how to not feel guilty while hanging up on him. I turn my phone off. I can stay here for three months. I won't think beyond those three months. I need to be happy right now.

Sasuke didn't cheat. He's just been working overtime and has the money to prove it. He's never gonna let this go. We've been arguing a lot about money lately. I get free coffee grounds from work and bought my own filters and a filter-cup-thing. He wants me to drink green tea. Is it so bad to want coffee? To him. I put the money in my own account when I moved back with him. I let him believe I'd spent it all. He doesn't let that go, either. I'm glad it's the only two things: money and how he doesn't let things go. He really has changed.

"Naruto, we don't have any noodles."  
"So go buy some," I mumble through a mouthful of ramen. He walks up to me and pushes the ramen cup away. He leans down and put his hands on my shoulders, face close to mine. He's angry. "Naruto. We do not have any noodles," he reiterates slowly and deliberately. "Well, okay. Can I please have some money to go buy some after finishing my ramen cup?" My tone is nasty and short. I can't help it. He wasn't going to do this anymore. He promised.

"Don't speak in that tone to me!" he roars, yanking me out of the chair and shaking me. "You have your own money. Go buy the noodles!" I stomp out of the kitchen and into the bedroom to find my wallet. It's not there. That's never happened before. I hesitate. Asking Sasuke is a last resort. The last resort, really. Twenty minutes of running around the apartment later, I still can't find it. "I can't find my wallet," I confess finally. Sasuke doesn't look up from the book he's reading. "You sure?"  
"Yes! What do you want me to do, look in the refrigerator?"  
"Look in the last place you had it. It might reach up and bite you."

No way. For twenty minutes, it wasn't there! How—"Did you find it?" he calls.  
"Yeah."  
"Where was it?"

"Where it always is."  
"Told you."  
"Yeah." Weird.

"Naruto, we're out of noodles."  
"No, we're not! I bought enough to last a week. They're in the—" Oh. They're not in the cupboard. "I told you to buy some two nights ago."  
"I did! I couldn't find my wallet that night, and—"  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah," I respond slowly. Sasuke looks really confused. "Here, how about you get the receipt. We save them for lots of reasons."  
"Yeah, the receipt is—" Not where I crumpled it up and tossed it.

Sasuke follows me around. "I bought the noodles and saved the receipt. I crumpled it up and threw—"  
"No, you didn't," my boyfriend whispers.  
"Yes, I did," I protest.  
"Why are you lying to me? I thought things were going to change." Sasuke looks so sad as he says that.  
"I'm—I'm sorry. I'll buy some more."

"Hey, why'd you buy all that ramen a week ago? There's plenty."  
"What?"  
"It's in the cupboard. Were you going on a ramen binge?" he asks playfully, laughing.  
"No…there was none…you told me to go buy some."  
"No, I didn't."  
"Yes, you did. I'll show you the receipt!"  
"Go ahead. But I never told you anything. It's too bad you're spending all that money."

I freeze. I walk slowly into the bedroom. If we really had noodles, why did I go out and buy some? I looked in the cupboard and there was none…and my wallet really was missing a week ago…or was it two weeks? What's going on with me?

It keeps happening. It's annoying, but Sasuke is always there to help and reassure me. And it's not happening every day, so I won't worry. Maybe I am unconsciously screwing things up because Sasuke and I are back together. I don't know.

"Hello?"  
"Is this Naruto Uzumaki?"  
"Yeah."  
"How are you today, Naruto?"  
"Fine…"  
It's a debt collection agency.  
"What?" I gasp. They've been trying to contact me…ever since Sasuke and I got back together… "We've been calling you at your home number and always leave messages."  
"I haven't been getting them, I swear. I'm so sorry. I'm glad you called me here. My—I'll pay the debt."  
"Okay, great." My parents help me. The debt collector called me at their house. I use it as a secondary number. Why didn't I get their calls or messages originally?

"You never had anybody call here. Relax, Naruto. It's just us. Come here. Let's cuddle." I sit next to him, not knowing what else to do. "This is scary," I admit as he snuggles me. "I usually don't forget stuff, and why would somebody lie about calling?"  
"Don't worry. You have me. I will always tell the truth and be here to help you. I helped you with your wallet…remember…and I wasn't even angry with you about buying all that ramen…you're just stressed out by work. You need to spend more time with me."  
"Okay."

"The lights are flickering. Get the candles."  
"No, they're not."  
"Damn it, Naruto! I'm trying to take care of you! I love you. You leave me no time for me! It's all about you! You and your memory problems. And the stress from work. You don't even believe me about something simple as the lights anymore!"  
"Sasuke," I look him in the eye and continue, "I saw—" And he punches me.  
"You never saw anything, you crazy fuck. No one's going to believe you."  
"I'm leaving," I choke out. He shrugs.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm not even really sad. I'm not as attached as I thought I was. I fed them, but maybe it was because I didn't pay enough attention to them. Sasuke once tried to kill them. I got between him and the tank and wound up basically negotiating. My parents looked after them for a time. And my frogs are dead. I'm with my parents now, sleeping in my old room and stuff. It's nobody's fault. It's not that I wasn't attached, I realize as I cry a little later. Grief sometimes might take a while with me. I don't know. I don't really have a lot of experience. Sasuke reminds me I'm lucky in that regard. His parents and brother are alive and well. It must be his grandparents he refers to.

Yeah, present tense. I went back. Believe it. He called the day I cleaned out the aquarium and my parents donated it to a consignment shop. Sasuke had a friend of his call from his (the friend's, not Sasuke's) cell phone, doing something to have the number show up as 'restricted' on my parents' phone. The phone was handed to me with, "I don't know who it is." Sasuke had his friend ask for me and all that. And then Sasuke was on the line with his smooth voice. "I'm sorry about the frogs. Lee told me." I cried. Then, we were back together. I didn't realize until later that Sasuke was lying and he'd been watching me. He'd never stopped. At least he didn't kill my frogs.

This is the fourth time going back. He hugs me, holds me, whispers that he loves me and calls me sweetheart. I just—needed that. To be close to someone in that way, and I wasn't gonna go to a (plethora of Seattle gay) bar(s) to get that. Going to Sasuke was…easy. Better? Something. He knows me. He knows my body. I know him and his. Either he hasn't been with anyone except me, or he's a good actor. Either way, his words are sweet and the sex is good. We cuddle and kiss afterward, and he's just got this look in his eyes, this gentle, soulful, 'I love you' gaze. I was wrong to leave him. It goes without saying. He's done nothing but love me, and I've been so awful in return. It took my grief over something unrelated for us to get back together. He's been so patient. It's me who needs to change, and I want to. I've gotten smarter since I've gotten back with Sasuke—I've been reading more of his books. He's happy.

This attitude lasts for maybe two weeks. I call Ino at the hotline and tell her everything. He's crazy-making, literally making me crazy to control me. And I wound up in the hospital because of him! I still have the painkillers just in case. This isn't me. I could kick his butt any day! I fought back. A lot.

Last night we got into an argument about stupid shit. I didn't talk to him for the rest of the night. In bed, I curl away from him in my best impression of a hedgehog. Neither of us sleep. Well, we must have. I wake up before him from a nightmare about shitty beer and seeing Dr. Haruno, the pink-haired doctor who took care of me, naked. Ew.

Sasuke rolls over to look at me. "You wanna go for breakfast?"  
"Good morning to you to. Sure." I never turn down free food. I know it's a blatant attempt at soothing last night. I know what this looks like. It's food. I'm still angry at him. We have a conversation at breakfast. It's stilted. Do I really want to do this again?

Five hours later, I'm packing again.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Hi. I'm alive and very passionate about continuing this story.  
Warnings for sexual and verbal abuse, and controlling behavior. Naruto also experiences flashbacks to the night he was raped.

It's a pattern. Petty little fights that make him hit me, me leaving, me coming back, repeat. This is all my life is. The life of the great Naruto Uzumaki revolves around Sasuke. Are you bored yet? I am. My parents insist I stay with them instead of going back. Sasuke needs me, he's sorry, he's working on withholding his anger. And I need to work on being a lot nicer to him this time. He is trying so hard.

Am I right in wondering if our new sex life is normal? The new coldness, scolding, belittling. If I had to say when it started, it was when I told another friend about Skippy's and Fofo's deaths. Sasuke doesn't see him as a threat, yet he hated my frogs. Wait. He doesn't hate many of my friends because by now, we all have the same friends. I am never alone with them either—he's always by my side in at least two seconds. Thankfully no one says it's cute—they're all silently creeped out. I'm reading one of Sasuke's books. It's a creepy poetry book. Sasuke is a creepy poetry kind of guy and says the book is a respected American classic, high-culture literature. He says reading poetry like this will make me more sophisticated. Mostly it's making me scared.

I was telling my friend this and he asked about my frogs afterward. I quietly told him. "How long were they alive? Two, almost three years? That's a long time, Naruto. You're a great pet owner." I mumbled my thanks and then he had to go to work. I was so pissed off—it means that I've been with Sasuke three entire years or something, or maybe that the frogs were just—I'm too stupid to figure this out. Sasuke doesn't—I told my friend about the frogs. Sasuke held my hand and put his chin on my shoulder, listening to the conversation. I held still, wondering what I was doing so wrong that he now had to listen to my phone conversations, and the calls as I answered them. I hung up and he was all over me after I put the phone in my pocket.

Maybe I'm wrong to be creeped out every time he holds my hand and listens through the other side of my cell phone. Sometimes he puts an arm around my waist and draws me close, tilting his head so his ear is nearly against my cell phone. Maybe this is normal. Or maybe this is Sasuke's way of being affectionate.

I think that's what Sasuke needs right now—affection. The man can't keep his paws to himself and it bugs me. I push his hands away, squirm away and walk away. A new kind of verbal whatever always follows—whining. And then the insults, the belittling. He calls me a pervert for wanting sex, an animal, a beast. He follows me in the shower to see if I masturbate or get an erection. Both are forbidden because he is convinced I am thinking of someone else or planning on cheating, or because I am giving in to my lower nature. He reaches for me at night, sleepily, and sometimes I am reminded of the night I never said yes but didn't say no. He hasn't done it again though.

We haven't had sex that satisfied me in months. The bastard cockblocks me, masturbates in front of me and tells me he's thinking of popular J-rock singers, never me because I'm so ugly, scruffy or driven by lower impulses. He makes me do things I don't want to do and asks me why I'm such a prude or so frigid. I looked up those words in the dictionary and wanted to knock his teeth out. He'll get on top of me at night and hold me down, biting me and breathing on my neck so I get aroused. The biting really hurts. When he holds me down sometimes I remember the night I didn't say yes. But then he breathes on my neck and demands I pull down my pants. On the nights that I don't start crying and freaking out and thinking that horrible things are going to happen again, I obey him without question. I tell myself it is what I can get.

He uses lubricant and a condom every time. He rams into me, sweating and breathing hard. It's not like it used to be. We don't cuddle afterward and I haven't come from having sex with him since—I don't remember. So I masturbate into the sink when he's fast asleep. I use a candle to stimulate my spot (yeah, I got one) to make things faster. I'd buy a sex toy if I could. It's just how things are right now. Maybe this is normal. Maybe I should be—I don't know. I've called Ino at the hotline about it. I'm surprised she remembers me. I think she's surprised I'm still alive.

And this isn't normal.

I pop a painkiller and shift the ice pack, then continue screaming at Ino, as much as my aching, split, puffy face will let me. I had a nocturnal emission and as soon as I had woken up this morning, Sasuke dragged me out of bed and started hitting me. "How can I control what my body does at night?" I screamed. He hit me harder. I'm recounting it angrily for Ino. I can't go to the cops again and Ino listens again, always patient. This is so fucked up. Sasuke will be arrested again if I call the cops.

"I know there's no point in asking, but…is there room in any shelter?"


	17. Chapter 17

"No."  
Great. I'm stuck here.

A/N: I know there was a new rule instituted a while ago that said only listing an author's note and calling it a chapter was not cool. The above is not a way to get around that necessarily. I have lost a lot of the drive for this fic, and I'm taking a break for a while. I don't know when I will come back to it, but I will. I am also taking a break from ff. net for a while and turning my focus back to my writing journal on LiveJournal, the hyperlink to which is provided in my profile. All are welcomed and encouraged to visit, as I will be posting stories there. I am currently working on two. One is about a drunken truth-or-dare game and is SasuNaru. The other one continues to develop.  
Thank you all for your amazing reviews and loyal readership. I hope to resume this story soon.


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